The Fragility of Life
by Lialane Graest
Summary: Flesh parts so easily to the scalpel's touch. It is a glorious sight to behold; the contaminated color of the subject's skin, whether it is light or dark, being inundated with the pure crimson of blood. In moments the pure color can glide delicately over the ravaged canvas, making all equal. M for horror and angst, blood and pain. Insane!Stein and Marie.


Flesh parts so easily to the scalpel's touch. It is a glorious sight to behold; the contaminated color of the subject's skin, whether it is light or dark, being inundated with the pure crimson of blood. In moments the pure color can glide delicately over the ravaged canvas, making all equal. The scalpel is the paint brush, its wielder a talented artist. And of all those who wield that particular… artistic tool, Franken Stein is arguably one of the greatest artists to ever walk the earth.

The man currently laying on the operating table with his chest split open and his wide eyes staring at the stitched ceiling probably wouldn't agree. Stein hummed a useless ditty as he used his hands to carefully remove the man's heart, weighing the organ before placing it on the pile with the rest of the discarded pieces.

The scientist didn't know what he was hunting for, but if this man didn't have it, he would simply find another person and open them up and see if they did. There were billions of people in the world, a few wouldn't be missed. A sudden thought rose amid the maelstrom of the scientist's mind and he mechanically walked over to the incinerator, lighting the fire and watching it flare to life before returning to the cooling corpse.

"Don't worry; you'll be warm soon enough," he said to the corpse, chuckling as blood soaked fingers lightly patted the dead man's cheek momentarily. A new incision went into the man's side, dark blood slowly oozing from the wound as Stein squeezed the flesh beneath the cut, enthralled by the sheer beauty of the crimson. Laughter fled from the man's lips as he bent down near what had lovingly been dubbed the 'essence of life'; only his medical training kept his tongue from snaking out to taste the dark liquid to see what life itself tasted like.

Resuming the song that he was humming Stein began removing the man's intestines, slipping them through his hands as a child would play with a slinky, the giggles building and building until they erupted into full bodied, hysterical laughter. With the laughter shaking his lanky frame Stein slung the intestines over his shoulder, feeling them fall near his knees, the other portion still attached to the man's anatomy. A quick cut with his scalpel freed the intestines from their fleshy prison and they snaked down over his shoulder to hit the floor behind him with a sickly _*plop*_. The laughter ceased as the man craned his neck over his shoulder and looked down.

One stitched shoe slammed down onto the intestines, a squelching sound emitting from them as they were smashed beneath his feet and Stein's voice raised again into high pitched laughter, his eyes screwed closed as he flung his head back, slamming his foot down again and again before his eyes opened wide and he looked down at the mess. Blood and partially digested food were splattered around him, the air rank with the scent of stomach acid, blood, and shit.

"The scent of life!" Stein screamed out, suddenly shaking with the strain of keeping himself from just driving his scalpel into the body. "That's what I'm searching for! Life!" Stein's neck cracked as his head flew back violently, eyes wide as maniacal laughter exploded from him.

"_You can't find life with the dead."_ The voice echoed around the room and Stein suddenly stopped laughing, looking down at the corpse in front of him. _"The dead have no life, so you can't find it there. Look around you; you can see the ones who still have life. Then you can find it. Find it, experiment on it, create it. And then you can take it away. You'll be God."_ Like a corpse's voice the voice tugged at the edges of Stein's mind, floating in the maelstrom as the man cocked his head to the side, his eyes staring intently around him.

A bright glow met him and the man's face twisted into a sadistic grin. Staggering, unsteady feet carried him to the lab's door, his blood dyed scalpel clenched in his hand. A trembling, bloody hand reached for the knob, only to recoil as if burnt when it wouldn't turn. Life sat on the other side of a locked door, yet he couldn't get to it. A hoarse scream tore from his throat as the scientist pounded a fist against the door. The glow of life on the other side wavered and Stein knew that it was aware of him.

It was aware of the predator knocking at its door, and Stein grinned wolfishly, relishing the fear he could almost taste. He slammed his fists against it again, delighting in the way the door jumped before another thought surfaced. A moment later his wavelength ran along his hands, the door exploding outward.

A blonde haired woman with an eye patch covering her left eye stood in front of him. Life stood in front of him. Beautiful life stood right in front of him and Stein trembled in anticipation of prying the secrets from her flesh, seeing the vivid crimson of her blood rushing over her delicate skin, of seeing the interior of someone so vibrantly alive as the person in front of him. Laughter bubbled in his throat as he wondered suddenly at the fragility of life.

"Franken, pull yourself together," she said, and he could hear the fear in her voice though she didn't step away from him. His scalpel flashed towards her, his eyes crazed as laughter tore from his throat.

"I will know! You have it! You will let me know!" He shrieked and lunged even as she darted away from him. He stood watching life run from him and collapsed to the floor, giggling at the sheer absurdity of it. Life, running from him? He was going to create life when he was done with her. He would know all that there was to know about it and he would be able to create life. He could even recreate her, if he chose to.

But first she would have to learn how to behave. If she didn't, he would leave her dead, just like he would leave the other one dead. The one that had taught him absolutely nothing. That one would burn in the incinerator's fires.

That thought lodged in his mind and Stein staggered back to his feet, returning to the dead man's side. "I didn't forget my promise," he chuckled, picking the man up. "You'll soon be warmer than you ever were when you were still alive!" Blood and other fluids ran down the front of the scientist's shirt from the ruined cavity of the man's chest and abdomen; soaking Stein's chest and legs, staining the white fabric of his lab coat and tainting his stitched clothing. A trail of gore was left as he carried the dead man to the incinerator and carelessly tossed the body in.

The flickering flames fascinated the scientist as they consumed the body, the remaining skin blackening and crisping quickly from the intensity of the flames. The scientist's hands itched as he imagined tearing through what remained of the man's crisped skin and giggles flitted from his lips.

"_The dead can teach you nothing, find life! Only then can you know what it will take to create it and how to deal with it. Go, hurry! Life escapes you."_ The cold, corpse-like voice whispered through the edges of Stein's mind, any vestige of sanity being wiped away with the whispered words. Stumbling slightly Stein darted out of the research lab, ignoring the ruined door and ran down the dark halls of his lab, tracing after the brightly shining beacon of a living soul.

His laughter preceded him and the life that he could sense in front of him began running, the door to the outside world suddenly flying open. Anger rushed through the scientist as he redoubled his effort to capture that spark of life.

He collided with her two steps from the outer door, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He could _feel_ the life surging from her as she squirmed in his grasp, a golden arm grasping the screw in his head and turning it suddenly.

His view of the world shattered and the scientist tried to pull away from her, screaming in agony. Desperation fueling him he plunged the scalpel he held in his right hand into her side, twisting it violently, no longer desiring anything but to get her to let go, to stop the pain that _Life itself_ was forcing on him. Life held onto him with every bit as much desperation, even as he shoved the scalpel deeper into her side, and could feel it scraping against her ribs.

She screamed finally, crumpling to the floor at the same time his hand numbly released the scalpel. Her hand brushed weakly against the scar on his cheek as she collapsed, breathing weakly, tears in her eye. He collapsed against her, unfocused eyes focusing for the first time in hours, perhaps days, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"_Marie." _Trembling hands pushed himself away from her, eyes wide in shock and horror. "Marie!" Scooping her up, holding her close to his bloodstained chest Franken Stein ran back to his research lab, feeling the woman's grip on life steadily weakening.

With hands covered in both her blood and the blood of a dead man, Stein peeled back her clothing and stared at the wound that he had inflicted on her; Marie's breath coming less and less often. With a curse he pulled a pair of gloves on and tried desperately to staunch the flow of blood, his skilled hands moving as fast as he dared even as Marie's eye slid closed.

* * *

**A/N: Does he work fast enough to save her? Does she die? How fragile is life, really? Is it like glass? But if it is like glass, some will break, some will not, so again, Marie's life, how fragile is it really?**

**I don't own Soul Eater.**


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